by Hannah Ross
Judging from the angle of the rays, it was still early. She swung her feet down to the floor and dressed, impatient to go downstairs and begin another day of proving she could be good for something besides looking pretty, even on a farm.
She found Rebecca in the kitchen, fixing a large breakfast. There were eggs and sausages and oatmeal with raisins, and a large plate of freshly made blueberry pancakes.
"Ah, there you are, Nell dear." Rebecca's kind smile made Priscilla feel as warm and cared-for as Tilly's once did. "I hope you slept well?"
"Very well, thank you, Rebecca."
"I'm glad to hear that. I've been afraid you've felt dreadfully cramped in that little loft."
"It's a lovely little room," Priscilla said with absolute sincerity, "I always wanted such a room for myself." It was true, too. The privacy of that loft, like a little nest hidden at the very top of the house, was more than she could ever have hoped for back home.
"Well, in any case, it's easy to heat, as it's so small. Sit down, dear, and let me fix you a plate. What would you like to have? Wait a minute. I'll just open the window and call Daniel. He was outside with the sunrise fixing the garden gate."
Once he came in, everyone filled their plates.
"Have some of these sausages, Nell," suggested Daniel. "You may have noticed we eat a big breakfast around here and do most of our work before lunch, and it's a long while until then."
"We can do lunch earlier today, though, if it's been too late for you," Rebecca said. "There isn't a lot of work. That's to say, nothing urgent."
"Please don't change your routine for me. The past two days have been wonderful. I almost wish…well…your children are very lucky to have you as their parents."
* * *
Once the plates and table were clear, Rebecca took Priscilla out to the vegetable garden. It was large and well-tended, with neat rows of young tomato, pepper, bean and other plants Priscilla didn't recognize. Most were protected against frost or late snow flurries with a plastic-covered wire frame. There was also a small, nicely built lean-to greenhouse on one side of the house, its large glass panes fixed into wood frames.
"You caught on to caring for the animals so quickly yesterday I thought you might enjoy helping in the garden, too. We got an early start this year," Rebecca explained proudly, as she led Priscilla between the rows. "We have to take the covers off each morning and replace them before the sun goes down in case the temperature drops overnight. But it'll only be for another few weeks or so." She bent and lifted off one of the covers. "See how well they're doing? It's all thanks to the greenhouse Daniel built last fall that let us start seeds early."
Priscilla looked, but was no judge. She never before saw such plants up close, and had only a vague notion about vegetable planting seasons. The gardens at Silver Oaks were all about flowers, not food, and any vegetables or fruit they might have wanted were available to people with their means year round. The work that was done in the course of growing vegetables for food was a mystery to Priscilla, but in any case, the lush greenery had a cheerful effect, and the morning air wafted in sweet, invigorating waves.
"Of course, the covers also protect weeds, so we still have to keep after those. When the plants are taller, we'll be able to mulch around them to keep the weeds down, but for now we have to pull the pesky sprouts. You can tell the difference between the vegetables and weeds?"
"Your vegetables are in straight rows and evenly spaced so I'm guessing all the small stuff around them are the weeds?"
Rebecca laughed. "Of course, and I'm sorry. I tend to mother my plants as much as my children." She laughed again. "Nothing around here is especially difficult work, Nell, but I'm afraid you'll soon find it a little dull with us."
"That's OK. That's what I was hoping for."
"Were you?" Rebecca's eyebrows rose just a little. "You know, dear, I'm wondering what…" She caught herself and shook her head. "No. I won't interrogate you. I said I wouldn't. I'm sure you're a good girl, and could have done nothing seriously wrong. But if you ever want to talk…"
"Thank you." For some reason, a lump rose in Priscilla's throat. This woman was so kind and motherly, she felt an almost irresistible urge to unburden and tell her everything, but knew she must not.
"I'm going to work on pruning some trees on the other side of the house," Rebecca said after a few seconds of awkwardness. "If you have any trouble, dear, you'll know where to find me."
As it turned out, Priscilla had no trouble. Weeding wasn't complicated, and the dark rich soil in the well-tended garden was soft and yielding. It was peaceful, working like this all alone, and she was rather proud of herself when, an hour later, the weed bucket was full and the task completed. She now felt all of a green thumb, and rural life was not so intimidating anymore.
She lingered in the garden, pulling weeds around the outside fencing and by mid-morning was ready to get into the house for a refreshing drink and a little snack. Her fingers were on the door handle when the voices she heard from the kitchen gave her pause.
"…seems like a good kid, I grant you, but I'm not sure it's the wisest thing to do, Becky. What if her family is searching for her?"
"People deserve to have the freedom to make their own decisions, Daniel. Even if they're sixteen years old."
"Really? Do you remember how you felt when Kate ran away from home? She was sixteen, too."
"Ran away is an overstatement, Daniel. She only went to a sleepover party without telling us."
"You sound all reasonable now, but back then you were ready to rip your hair out."
Priscilla held her breath, afraid to move lest she be discovered.
"If Kate had really run away from home back then," Rebecca finally said in a low, slow voice, "I would rather have her stay under the roof of responsible adults, than wander on the streets by herself."
"But would you still consider them responsible adults if they never tried to let you know your daughter was alive and well?"
Priscilla was so engrossed in listening to the conversation she didn't hear the steps on the pathway behind her and was startled by an unfamiliar voice.
"Were you going to go in?"
She spun around, her heart thumping in her throat, and saw a youth a couple of years older than herself, dressed in ragged denim pants with many zippered pockets and a tattered T-shirt. He had sparkling blue eyes and sun-streaked brown hair that was getting rather shaggy. He stood with his feet spread slightly apart, his hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans, and looked as though he felt quite at home in this place.
"Who are you?" Priscilla blurted out, trying to breathe very slowly and steadily to assuage her racing heart. It's alright. This isn't a desert, you know. People live here, and most of them aren't White Tower agents. She blushed with embarrassment at her awkwardness. He's probably a local and has more right to ask me who I am. He doesn't seem annoyed, though.
"I'm Ben," he said, giving her a curious look. "I visit often, but I don't usually see strangers here."
"So you're Ben. Rebecca and Daniel are your parents?"
He nodded. "I think they'd like me to live here, but it would be a little too much. I'm more comfortable at the camp."
There was something a little odd about the tone of his words, and Priscilla had no idea what sort of camp he meant, but there was no time to ask. Their combined voices attracted attention and the front door swung open. Rebecca stood on the front step, beaming.
"Ben!" She moved forward and squeezed his arm affectionately. "This is a surprise! Two visits in less than a week! Where's your horse?"
"Well, Sidney drove to the camp to borrow some tools, and was going to Resurrection Town for supplies, so I rode with him for company. I really wasn't as anxious to get back to camp as I thought I was three days ago, so I asked him to drop me near here."
"You should have invited him to stop in for a visit!" Rebecca said.
"I did, but Elisa wasn't feeling well and he wanted to go straight back. That's wh
y he dropped me a little way off.
"Well, come on inside. We'll have early lunch."
Daniel walked out, his sleeves rolled up. "Ben! I thought I heard your voice. I see you've already met Nell."
"Yes," Ben looked at her with a quizzical smile. "Only I haven't heard her name until now."
"Nell is staying with us for a while and lending a hand around here," Rebecca said as they all moved into the kitchen where she started a fire in the woodstove. "There's certainly enough work to be getting on with. We're lucky to have her."
Priscilla felt her face grow hot and bent her head, intent on setting the table, though she did notice Ben seemed a little uncomfortable.
"I'll do what I can while I'm here," he said, "but I can't stay more than a couple of days. There's a lot to do at the camp. We're building another extension. No way around it. The place is getting too cramped and I can't really…"
"That's alright, Ben," Daniel said, pleased his son worried about them. "We can handle this. You know we're not that old and decrepit yet."
Ben's mouth curled into a grin. "I didn't say you were." They're my parents. Why can't I just tell them I needed to get away from the pitying looks that remind me of Raven?
Rebecca reheated a pot of soup and placed a loaf of bread in the oven to warm. "It's lucky I cooked extra yesterday. Here, Ben, put this on the table. We've still got some butter to put on the bread, but we're running low."
"You haven't heard of your mother's new scheme yet," Daniel told him as they all sat down to the table. "She plans on getting a cow after all."
Ben nodded, tearing off a chunk of bread. "Sounds like a good idea."
"I'm not sure I'm ready for the commitment," Rebecca said. "But if we had a cow, we'd be well set up for cream, cheese, and butter. We're still thinking about it."
Priscilla dipped some bread in the soup and ate it. She was surprised at how good it was. Or maybe it was just the fact that she felt so hungry after a morning of work outdoors.
"So, Ben. Why didn't Raven come with you this time?"
Ben took an extra-long time blowing on his spoon of hot soup before answering. "I haven't seen that much of her lately."
"Oh. Well, dear, it isn't really my business."
"No, that's OK. She's busy at her camp. That's how things are. For her, the camp always has to come first, you know."
"What kind of camp is that?" Priscilla asked, unable to restrain her curiosity.
Ben gave her an appraising look, as if wondering how much to tell. "Well, we have all kinds of people living in ours. Many of them are those I was sent out with."
Priscilla shook her head. "Sent out?"
"Yes," he said slowly and deliberately. "Out of the orphanage. We were only twelve years old, but we were lucky enough to survive."
It was then something clicked in Priscilla's brain. Despite her sheltered upbringing at Silver Oaks, she read all she could get her hands on about the controversial policy regarding illegally born children. The conclusion of that story, which exploded in the White Tower's face two years ago, signaled a crisis in her father's political career, as well as a crisis of her trust in him. She gasped. "Oh! You're one of them! One of the Wild Children!"
With a faint smile, Ben said, "You could say that."
"But then…" Priscilla looked from Ben to Daniel and Rebecca. The family resemblance was obvious and easy to trace. "You said that your parents…"
"It's a long story," Rebecca said. She looked happy and sad at the same time as she gazed at her son with shining eyes and reached for his hand.
"I'd love to hear it."
"We'll settle in for some good long storytelling in the evening," Daniel promised. "If we start now, we'll never get to doing what we planned for the afternoon. Ben, are you up to splitting some wood?"
"You know me. There's nothing I love better."
Rebecca rose and began collecting the plates. "By the way, Ben, dear. I'm afraid we'll have to swing a camp bed for you downstairs or in the barn. Nell has your loft. I hope you don't mind."
"It will be tough," he said, suppressing a smile. "But I guess I can live with that."
After more work in the garden and some odd jobs around the barn, Priscilla settled down in the large swing on the front porch with a cup of steaming tea and a very old, battered book she found in one of the nooks in her loft. For an hour or so, she could hear the regular thuds of an axe from the woodshed, until Ben came out, wiping his sweaty face on his sleeve.
"Well, that should last them for a while," he said. He reached for a thermos bottle that stood in the shade and took a long swig. "What are you reading?"
She showed him the cover of the book. "John Grisham. He lived a long time ago, before the War."
Ben nodded. "I've found some of his books here and there. It's fascinating to know how people lived in the past, isn't it? A bit funny, too. They took so much for granted, and had no idea the War was going to wipe it all out so soon."
"I wish I could have lived in those times," she said with a wistful sigh. "There were so many possibilities."
"Well…it doesn't look as though you've had to rough it too much."
Priscilla gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Just a hunch. You look like you've been well cared for, that's all. Am I wrong?"
Priscilla felt a brief inner struggle. Her first thought was to tell as little as possible about herself, but she realized it might make people even more suspicious. Besides, there was something about Ben that generated trust. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't hurt her, at least not deliberately. "No, you're not wrong. In fact, compared to most people, you could say I've had a pampered life."
His eyebrows arched. "But not a happy one?"
"Complaining would be ungrateful," she said with a vague smile. "Especially to someone like you, who was treated so badly. But I… let's just say I needed a break."
"You've come to the right place, then." As his eyes swept across the garden and buildings and meadow beyond, she saw how fond he was of the farm. "I wouldn't live here, but I love visiting. Someone like you, an outsider, might get bored quickly, though."
"No. I think I'll like it here." Ben gave an approving nod, and she felt absurdly gratified. "Hey, I'm sorry about taking your room. If you want to, we can swap. I'm happy to sleep downstairs and you can take the loft."
"Nah," Ben waved her offer away. "I'll be fine. I've slept in many a place worse than a camp-bed in a living room." He rose and stretched. "I think I'll take a shower before dinner. See you later, Nell."
12
________________________
Friday, March 28
Breakfast the next day was not served as early as usual. It was nearly eight o'clock when Rebecca, humming to herself, set four plates and four sets of cutlery on the table and then turned to the stove to flip the eggs.
Daniel came in from outside, smelling of wind and fresh grass. "Good," he said, nodding approvingly at the breakfast table. "I'm hungry. Where are the kids? Don't tell me they're still asleep."
"They were up at the crack of dawn. I think Ben wanted to show Nell some of his favorite fishing spots down by the river."
His eyebrows rose as he said, "Those two sure seem to be getting along fine."
"Well, yes." Her cheerful smile became a frown. "What's the matter, Daniel? Is anything wrong?"
"No. Nothing in particular, but…"
"But what?"
"This girl, Nell. We don't know who she is, and perhaps we don't have to insist on finding out. But she's from the Islands, that's clear enough. And perhaps it's only my impression, but she seems to belong to a well-to-do family. She will go back eventually."
"Maybe," Rebecca said with a shrug. "But in any case, there's no harm with the kids getting friendly. Ben's a good boy, and a sensible one. I'm sure they'll work things out on their own."
As Daniel was about to reply, they heard the sounds of chatter, laughter, and footsteps from outside before the front door s
wung open. Ben and Priscilla walked in, looking as if they spent a very enjoyable hour together.
"You're right on time," Rebecca said, ruffling Ben's hair. "Breakfast is just ready."
"That's good. I'm starving." He handed Rebecca the bucket he held. "Here. We caught a nice fat trout."
"Or rather, Ben did," Priscilla said. "I pretty much stood next to him watching the rod while we talked."
"Well, thank you both anyways. That'll make a nice lunch."
"You had a good time, Nell?" Daniel asked with a knowing half-smile, but she didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes were fixed on the newspaper he held in his hand.
"Old news," he said, following her gaze. "This paper was sold yesterday in Resurrection Town, which means it was printed two days ago. And there's nothing of much interest anyway. Half the space is taken up by the election campaign. As if it really matters who wins."
"You think it doesn't matter, then?" asked Priscilla.
"Not really. No matter which name gets the votes, Dahl will remain in power. If he loses his White Tower seat, he'll still pull the strings behind the scenes."
"What about Ted Connor? It sounds as though you don't put much stock in him."
"Connor? Why, I'm surprised you've even heard of the man. I've got a lot of respect for Ted Connor, but he doesn't stand a chance against Dahl. He isn't sleek or photogenic enough and doesn't have the money and power Dahl has behind his campaign."
Priscilla bit her lip. "So you think Dahl will win no matter what?"
"That's pretty much a given."
"I didn't know you were so interested in politics, Nell," Ben said, sounding surprised.
"I…I'm not, really." I have to change the subject. "Rebecca, do you need any help with breakfast?"
"I'm pretty much done, Nell, dear. Would you set this pan on the table?"
Conversation was abandoned in favor of eggs, bacon, tea, and toast.
Priscilla thought as she chewed. I have to be more careful. Nell's a simple girl on the run from school and family troubles. She wouldn't have any idea about politics or the White Tower. She's not the daughter of the most corrupt man in the Islands, and has no reason to express any interest in the election campaign.